With

There is contentment sitting next to you
A sense the world is breathing easily
And nothing stressful could heave into view
And if it did, it would not trouble me.
Even when stress or sheer annoyance brings
A tremor to what's otherwise so calm
Your comfort can, with time, subdue such things
Spreading on hurts your most effective balm.
So there should be no wonder why I slide
Consistently into your arms to sleep
Or why I so insist you let me hide
Within your orbit, and that orbit keep
For every time I'm with you, all is better;
That sort of help can't come by phone or letter.